


Will You Forgive?

by Yergink



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Good End, Recovery, smile for me spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 19:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yergink/pseuds/Yergink
Summary: Redemption, regret, and a journey to happiness.





	Will You Forgive?

**Author's Note:**

> the first time i played smile for me, i ended up killing dr. habit and getting the bad ending. i felt awful about it, but my friend who was in a call with me while i played felt assured that he'd deserved it. that got me thinking.

One lazy Saturday morning, Kamal is jolted awake to the unexpected sound of his phone ringing. He jostles upward, spilling out of bed and taking his covers to the floor with him. The droning ringtone continues as he flails, untangling himself and doing his best to sloppily race out of the bedroom. 

His vision still sleep hazed, he slips the phone from its cradle, fumbling with it briefly before bringing it to his ear. He mumbles a groggy, “Hello?” into the speaker as he tries to blink himself to wakefulness. 

It’s been just about a month since Kamal left the Habitat, and within that time, he’d somehow managed to settle back into normal life. He’d picked up a new job with a clinic downtown, reinstated his dental hygiene routine, started working on managing his anxiety, and, perhaps most surprisingly, even still kept up with some of the other Habiticians. It wasn’t necessarily the most exciting return, but hey, that’s life. 

The speaker sputters a bit, as though the person on the other end had sighed into it. “Hey Kamal. Sorry to bother you on your weekend,” Parsley says, his voice tinny. 

Instantly, Kamal stands up straighter. That’s Parsley’s Business Voice. The very particular tone he uses when he’s At Work and Taking Things Seriously. It’s notably different from his normal voice, the one he uses during casual lunch meetings or coffee dates, and  _ exceedingly  _ different from the voice he uses when drunkenly singing  _ Waterfalls  _ at karaoke. 

There’s maybe just a hint of alarm riding under his tone as Kamal grips the phone tighter and replies, “What’s up? Is something going on?” 

“Well..”

“Well?!” 

“I’m not sure yet,” Parsley finishes. “Just to ask, have you checked the Habitat’s website recently?”

Kamal hasn’t yet forgotten the taste of panic, and he can feel it beginning to rise in his throat. “Uh, no? Is something wrong?”

He’s apparently also not as good at hiding his panic as he might think. “Hey, calm down, it’s alright,” Parsley soothes, and the speaker crackles at his lowered voice. “It’s just a bit weird is all. Could you take a look at it for me?” 

Kamal swallows past the lump in his throat. He takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah I can do that. My computer’s in the other room though.” 

“I’ll hold.”

He sets the phone gently on the table beside the cradle and hurries back to the bedroom. He slides into his desk chair, squeaking the wheels as he pulls closer to the desk. He begins booting the computer up, prepping a hand on the mouse once he’s gotten it on. As usual, It takes a good minute or so for the screen to fade in, but soon he’s plugging in the address for the website, watching the loading bar inch across the screen and then--

He stares at the screen, unsure. Refreshes the page once for good measure. 

“Oh.” The sound escapes him in a very small puff of air, almost unconsciously. 

The previously loud and near-manic design of the website enthusiastically advertising the Habitat is gone. What’s left is just one little cartoon Dr. Habit, smiling and gesturing to a blurb of text.

_ “The HABITAT is official-ly closed! Thank u :-)” _

It makes enough sense, when he thinks about it logically. After that whole scheme, there was no way Habit could keep the place running. It’s just that Kamal hadn’t quite connected the points all the way to realized that meant it would have to shut down. 

He sits back in his seat, staring as the little cartoon Habit on the screen waved its arm back and forth, wonderfully oblivious. 

It seems, in a way, like a waste. Kamal thinks back to long nights spent at the site, poring over blueprints and designs, to falling asleep atop his desk to the sound of Habit’s pencil still scritch-scratching away and waking up with Habit’s large padded overcoat so carefully placed over his shoulders, a freshly brewed coffee steaming beside him. 

He remembers the Doctor piecing that place together, stone by aching stone, the haven he claimed he’d seen in his dreams. Kamal hadn’t really understood at the time, and the sloppy, typo-ridden mess that were Habit’s notes did little to explain. But he’d went with it because, bottom line, Kamal  _ trusted  _ him. Even as he’d spiralled, even with the breakdowns, the late night sobbing, the mania, the isolation Habit began throwing himself into, Kamal had stuck around. And he’d seen the place built to completion. 

And nefarious schemes aside, it’d worked, right? Everyone got to leave the Habitat happy. 

Within his reflecting, Kamal realizes he’s lost track of time, and he remembers Parsley on hold in the other room. 

When he picks the phone back up, Parsley says, “Took you awhile.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“So?” Parsley presses. “What do you think?” 

Kamal shrugs before remembering he’s on the phone and that Parsley can’t see him. Brushing off that brief embarrassment, he replies, “I don’t know. It sort of makes sense that he’d close the place down after everything.”

The other end of the line quiets a moment, and something dawns on Kamal. 

“Hey, uh, if you don’t mind, what made you check the website in the first place? Just something you do on Saturday mornings, or..?”

A bit of laughter rolls out of the speaker, the briefest of reprieves from that Too Serious tone Parsley’s locked himself in. “No it’s, ah, well... “

There’s another pause, and when Parsley speaks again it’s in a breathy whisper, like he’s got the phone too close to his mouth. “I don’t think I’m really supposed to be talking about it, but Dr. Habit is in a bit of a rough spot. Something about illegal quantities of nitrous oxide. I’m trying to smooth it over.” 

Kamal’s voice squeaks, “Oh?” 

_ Legal trouble?! _

“I was trying to get some contact info. I didn’t remember the phone number. But when I checked the website and saw that… I don’t know. It seemed weird, especially with the whole. Y’know. Legal issues.”

Kamal runs a hand through his hair nervously. “Yeah… Can see how that would look a bit. Incriminating.” 

“I figured, if anyone would know anything about what he’d been doing, it’d be you. You were his assistant. Any idea what’s going on?” 

Kamal thinks of waiting outside the emptied Habitat, wringing his hands and biting his lip. He thinks of watching the flower kid stumble out of the doors with raw, bleeding gums, growing pale at the sight of their bloodstained lips and hands. At the time, he’d quite nearly panicked, but they’d just grabbed his hands that’d fluttered around their shoulders, unsure of where to be, and looked him down with the resolution of a job properly done. And, coward that he was, Kamal hadn’t pressed it.

“Ah, hm, no, don’t think so, hey I like, just remembered I have something to do? Like, Right Now. Call you later,” Kamal flounders, shoving the phone back into the cradle and taking a heaving breath. It’s not entirely a lie. He hasn’t heard anything from Habit since he’s come back to the city. After the second week of no contact ended, he figured that whatever relationship they had was over. And yeah, it felt like a bit of a gut punch at the time, but he had to move on. That’s life. He’s happier now, isn’t he? 

He waits a few seconds, almost afraid to touch the phone again, and thinks of what to do next. Then, he picks it back up and begins dialing. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is a very spur of the moment, self-indulgent fic. i'll keep writing as long as i'm having fun.


End file.
